On the Road... Again.

Well, my reading last night at B&N went swimmingly, and I got to see a lot of old, old faces. By which I mean, obviously, not faces that are old, but faces I have not seen in a long, long time. Including my very first boss from my very first, $50-per-week job in New York, and several government-agency-democrats. Then my editor took Eric and me and a bunch of friends - including my brother and "Gwen" - for drinks at Indochine. Which is a very my-editor sort of place. And many, many gimlets were drunk, and now Eric is monstrously hungover.

Not me though. I, instead, am in San Francisco. After a couple of interviews, including one with a food writer named Meredith who is just FANTASTIC, and who bought me pork tacos and MORE gimlets, I am now ensconced in my hotel room, knitting and trying to stay awake until 9 pacific time so I'm not trashed by tomorrow night, when I'm getting into a rental car after my reading at Book Passage in Corta Madere and driving three hours to see my oldest oldest friend matt in mendocino.

It's strange. I'm feeling very, very lonely right now. My husband has apparently recovered from his hangover, either that or has died - he is off somewhere, not answering his phone. I feel weird, somehow, calling any friends. Perhaps because it's nearly midnight where my friends are. I'm just sitting in bed in my hotel-issued robe, knitting. And, well, crying a little. Not sure why. Sometimes one simply must, I suppose.

Tomorrow will be better.